CHAPTER XXIVWHO MURDERED THE ARCHDUKE?
Theconstant friction between Emperor Francis Joseph and his heir was always increased when the autumn manœuvres came round. The Emperor, who was over eighty, wished to attend them, and on two occasions they had to be put off, as the doctors said that the monarch could not spend his nights sleeping in a tent. Archduke Francis Ferdinand was always too ready to take up the duties which would have been performed by the Emperor had he been younger. Thus the hatred between the reigning monarch and his heir increased every year. The Emperor was prepared to allow his heir a large sum of money if he would consent to resign his right to the throne. This was not because of his personal antipathy. The doctors who attended the Archdukesaid that he was not entirely responsible for his actions. They suspected that he had an abscess on the brain. He had committed hasty, ill-considered actions that could be pardoned in an Archduke, but that were not possible for an Emperor, who must always keep his temper. The Imperial family dreaded the time of his coming to the throne. They had notified the Emperor that they would withdraw from the Court if Duchess Hohenberg were made Empress. At that epoch no one doubted that the Archduke would create her Empress of Austria and Queen of Hungary on his accession.
The manœuvres in Bosnia—arranged to take place there because the peoples of the newly-annexed provinces had been somewhat restless—were about to take place. Archduke Francis Ferdinand decided to assist. His wife said that she would accompany him. The Emperor was very angry. He did not wish the Archduke to go to Bosnia. He was much too unpopular to take such a risk. When Emperor Francis Joseph heard that Duchess Hohenberg was to accompany her husband, his wrath knew no bounds. The ladies of the Imperial family never accompanied their husbands on such occasions. If the Archduke and his wife wentto Bosnia she would be received as the future Empress of Austria. The Emperor forbade him to take her. The Archduke insisted. If there was any danger, his wife, who was really courageous, would wish to be at his side. The Emperor, who was very jealous about his authority, was extremely angry. It is very probable that he did not hide his feelings from his near relations.
The next news that reached Vienna was that the Archduke and his wife had been assassinated at Sarajevo. The crime was committed on a Sunday. It was midsummer in Vienna, and, strange to say, every important personage was on the spot. As a rule, the official personages left Vienna on the Saturday, when there were two consecutive holidays, as in this case, the Monday being afête-day, and spent the week-end at the Semmering. On this particular occasion everyone was in Vienna. The Emperor was at Ischl. The telegram with the news was sent there first. He exclaimed, “What impertinence of those Bosnians!” but was not otherwise moved.
The official account of the assassination, which was full of discrepancies, was then sent to Vienna. According to this account, a bomb had been thrown at the Archduke and his wifeon their way to the Sarajevo town-hall. It had failed to kill them. The Archduke, little moved by the occurrence, merely taunted the Mayor of Sarajevo with the lack of courtesy that the people had shown. “Instead of presenting us with bouquets, you receive us with bombs.” The Archduke could afford to make merry over his escape. He naturally expected that the streets had been cleared of people during his long visit to the town-hall. It was a matter of elementary precaution. The Bosnian police, however, had received instructions from Vienna that the Archduke’s safety was to be left in the hands of the military. The Archduke and his wife entered the car. The driver started off. He was in the plot. He drove them right across the road to where the murderer was waiting. This meant running the car on the wrong side of the road. Everyone noticed this, but no one protested. No one seized the assassin after he had fired at the Archduke’s head. He had ample time to kill the wife too. The boy, too, knew a secret that was carefully kept in the Imperial family. Archduke Francis Ferdinand was wearing armour. For this reason the assassins tried to kill him with a bomb. This attempt having failed, the assassin fired at his headinstead of at his breast. Both Kaiser Wilhelm and Archduke Francis Ferdinand spent much time and thought in trying to find bullet-proof armour. At the time of the assassination the Archduke was wearing a silken vest an inch thick. It was woven obliquely—made on the same principle as the jackets used for automobile tyres. It was warranted to turn the point of a knife or bullet. The vest was cumbersome and somewhat warm. It gave the Archduke an appearance of extreme stoutness. He, however, knowing how intensely he was hated in Austria and Hungary, never cared to appear in public without some protective armour. Steel corselets were excellent in bygone days, but are no use against a modern rifle. The Archduke feared he might be shot from a window. The secret that the Archduke was wearing armour was known to half-a-dozen people at most. The assassin must have learnt it from a member of the Imperial family.
A number of reporters started for Sarajevo that night to find out what had really happened there on that dark Sunday. They were turned back by the police. All letters from individuals in Sarajevo were censored. The telegraphic service was suspended. The policewere never even reprimanded for allowing the heir to the throne to be assassinated. On the contrary, the heads of the force were promoted shortly afterwards.
In Vienna the news was received with ill-concealed satisfaction. Everyone, from Archduke to crossing-sweeper, feared the day of his coming to power. The story went out to the world that the Archduke Francis Ferdinand had been killed by Serbs. This was not true. The young men concerned in the conspiracy were Bosnians, and Austrian subjects. The Government, however, saw that there was a chance of forcing a war upon Servia. If Austria could only prove that Servia had been responsible for the crime, she could undertake her long-planned “vengeance promenade” to Belgrade with the assurance that Europe would not interfere. Statesmen anticipated no difficulty in fastening the guilt on Servia, as the murders of King Alexander and Queen Draga were not forgotten. Austria, however, forgot her own black record. Emperor Maximilian of Mexico had been shot. It was always felt that more might have been done by his own family for his safety. Empress Elizabeth had been assassinated at Geneva. Her decease was most convenient. Thecountry was wearied of hearing of the pilgrimage of the heartbroken woman through Europe. Crown Prince Rudolf, who was much too popular, had also been murdered mysteriously. The persons concerned in his death had all been exiled. They had been sent to South America, but pensions sufficient to keep them in luxury for the rest of their lives had been bestowed upon them. These riches were only held on condition that the fearful night at the lonely hunting-box near Vienna was never mentioned. Emperor Francis Joseph had thus lost his three nearest relatives by assassination.
The news of the Archduke’s assassination was only discussed in whispers in Vienna. Everyone was afraid of arrest. Nevertheless, no one thought of accusing Servia. Archduke Francis Ferdinand was the one man in all the country who favoured the Slavs. His wife’s influence would secure advancement at Court for every man with Slavonic blood in his veins. The Germans feared that they would be overrun with them. While Austrians and Hungarians generally detested the Archduke, the Slavs loved him devotedly. It was clear that neither the Austrian Slavs nor Servia had any interest in the Archduke’s death. They had everything to lose.
The Imperial family was most anxious for his death. Archduke Frederick had never forgotten the slight put upon his daughter.
The assassin had definite instructions to murder the Duchess Hohenberg. Such orders could only come from persons actuated by motives of personal hatred. No one else in the world desired her death. Women, especially aristocrats and the mothers of families, are held in great veneration in Slav countries. It is certain that had the Bosnians arranged the plot, the Archduke would have been shot, but the morganatic wife spared. She was not even a member of the Imperial family. Why should she be sacrificed?
The remains of the Archduke and his wife were brought to Vienna. The Austrians, a Catholic people, and accustomed to exaggerated respect being paid to the dead, were deeply shocked at the funeral arrangements. The Imperial family wished that every possible insult should be shown to the remains of the defunct lady-in-waiting.
Italians living in Trieste describe with horror the landing of the coffins, which were brought from Bosnia by sea. They had no cause to love the Archduke, but were outraged by the disrespect to the dead. The sailors who carriedthem from the ship let one coffin drop upon the quay through carelessness. It lay there until they had taken breath and felt inclined to resume their burden. The funeral arrangements in Vienna were of a very third-class order. The Austrians said: “The Imperial family has no respect—not even for death. Their hate pursues its victims beyond the tomb.” The city was filled with reports of unseemly disputes about the funeral arrangements. The Imperial family wished to separate the pair of lovers, who had been so loyal to each other in life, and bury them separately. It was an outrage, they said, that any Habsburg should walk behind the coffin of a morganatic wife. Finally, it was arranged that the coffins should lie in state side by side in the Hofburg Chapel. The Chapelle Ardente was poorly fitted; trappings for a third-class funeral were used. The military party in Austria-Hungary was indignant that such an insult should be put on a soldier. Old men, dressed in their uniforms ablaze with Orders and military decorations, entered the sombre chapel, which was not even properly supplied with candles. Bursting with indignation and rage, they knelt and said a short prayer for the dead. The deep-toned mutterings sounded more like cries for vengeancethan prayers for the souls of the departed. Bohemian nobles came into the chapel. They glared at the unseemly sight. Everything was poverty-stricken.
Early in the morning a huge crowd had gathered to take part in the procession in front of the coffins. Every Austro-Hungarian subject has the right to see the face of the deceased monarch or of the heir to the throne after death. The Archduke’s coffin was sealed down. His face could not be exposed; his head had been so disfigured. But, nevertheless, the Ringstrasse was filled with people. They were permitted to enter the chapel in single file. The police on the great Ringstrasse sent many home, assuring them that their turn to enter the Hofburg would never be reached. This show of popular sympathy had enraged the Court. When the funeral procession was on its way to the station in Vienna after the lying-in-state, an unrehearsed incident took place. A large number of Bohemian aristocrats, with Prince Max Egon Fürstenburg at their head, assembled in one of the squares. They were either in costume or uniform, and were wearing the arms that belonged to their rank—short daggers, for the most part. They walked bareheaded behind the funeral as chief mourners to show theirrespect to Duchess Hohenberg, a member of the Bohemian aristocracy, and their resentment at the insults that had been heaped upon her head. Who were the proud Habsburgs to treat a Bohemian and a woman in such a way? Their whole attitude was not one of mourning, but of protest.
The final scenes took place at Arstatten, beyond the Danube. They were disgraceful beyond anything that had happened before. A violent storm forced the funeralcortègeto take refuge in an inn. The mutes became offensively drunk. Ghastly stories of the coffins being knocked off the chairs that were supporting them were circulated in Vienna. These may have been exaggerated. There was, however, some truth in the tales of impiety.
There was no one responsible in charge of the funeral. This was extraordinary, as the most unimportant Court ceremonies are always managed by experts long trained to do the right thing. Nothing is left to chance or accident. But the Archduke, the heir to the throne, was buried with less respect than would have been shown to an employé in the Court service had he died that week.